Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop: The Barista and the Lioness
by illuminatachime
Summary: Part One of Four "Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop" AU Teen Wolf fics. Jydia one-shot.


She comes in out of the sun but her hair still shines, glowing red-orange-yellow even when she's not in solar light. Her smile's about as confident as a timid jester's and her eyes are a deep, olive green, wide and bright as she walks up to the counter. She looks at him.

He's got sandy brown short hair, styled and mussed just so, and she knows he could be a model if he wanted to. His eyes are a pale grayish blue, and she licks her lips and looks at his nametag. _Jackson._

"Let me guess," he says, and his eyes are playful, but his smile is coy. "You want something espresso."

Lydia laughs, and the sound is throaty yet light. "I'm not a frappucino girl," she replies, mimicking his sly manner. She rests her hand on the counter, like she wants to reach forward and touch him, and he smiles wider.

"Okay, then I'm gonna guess again and say you want a…" he pauses, maybe for effect, or maybe because he's actually thinking. Either way, he finishes, "You want a cinnamon dolche latte."

She smirks deviously at him. "That does sound delicious," she says, and he nods. "But, I'm not in the _mood_ for espresso today." He raises his eyebrows, and she continues. "I came in here for tea. Do you want to guess again?" Her eyes crinkle at the edges, and he knows she's having fun with him.

"Chai tea," he replies hopefully. He wants to impress her, wants to get it right.

"Earl grey." Her smile is somewhat wicked as she watches him get shot down, but she _is_ impressed by how quickly he gets up and dusts himself off.

"Coming _right_ up, ma'am." Jackson winks at her and turns away, and she has the opportunity to look him over. He's got a great body and he's tall, at least six inches taller than her.

He's pouring her tea and he knows she's checking him out, and he gets a little cocky, a little sassy, and turns and gives her the _look._ She returns it and he knows she's just as interested as he is. Finishing with her tea, he walks over and hands it to her, in a glass mug so she has to stay, has to come back up to the counter and return the mug.

"That'll be three dollars and thirty-five cents," he says, grinning as he hands her the drink. The redhead smiles and takes out her wallet, and he sees what he wants to see: her school ID, with her name. "Lydia," he reads, and she looks up, surprised. "That's pretty." He continues, "Tell you what, Lydia. This one's on me." She smiles.

"Thank you, Jackson," she replies, letting him know that she's looked for his name too. She turns away, hair and skirt swishing, as she goes to sit down, in his direct view.

She sits and drinks her tea, makes eyes at him, smiles and looks away every now and then. She checks her phone, crosses and uncrosses her legs, and makes eyes at him.

He makes eyes at her, grinning as he helps other customers. Someone near her table leaves their plate and walks away, and he grabs a napkin and a Sharpie. Looking at the clock, he sees that it's 2:50. He scribbles something down and tries not to run towards the table with the abandoned plate; he tries not to rush towards _her._

She stares back at him as he approaches her. He wipes off the table and picks up the plate before placing his napkin on the edge of _her_ table. She raises an eyebrow, confused, but he looks straight into her eyes and says, "I'm off at three, alright?"

Lydia giggles and tries not to squeal, and she slides the napkin closer to herself, reading what he's written on it. She laughs a little as she sees it's his phone number, and he grins at her response. "Okay," she says quietly, secretively. She finishes her Earl Grey after he's walked back to the counter, and she rips his napkin in half, stuffing the side with his number into her purse. She pulls out a magenta-colored sharpie and writes her own number down on the other half.

He sees her get up and approach the counter and he chuckles lowly, just once. He accepts her tea mug with the napkin underneath it, and he's just about to throw the napkin away when he sees her writing on it. He throws a look over his shoulder at her and inclines his head, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously.

She waves and sits down at her previous table, checking the time on her phone. It's 2:57, and she grins.

"Lydia," he says when he's walking towards the door, having hung his barista apron in the employee's room. She stands and he can't resist smiling at her, at her and her luscious, fiery hair and her deep olive eyes.

She looks at him and takes his arm – he loves that she's confident, he thinks she's a lioness – and she studies his artsy-sporty hair, his blue eyes, and says, _"Jackson."_


End file.
